


Dawnbringer

by AmadeusMachina



Series: Adventures of Amadeus Mac'hina [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Nonbinary Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmadeusMachina/pseuds/AmadeusMachina
Summary: For the #Febhyurary challenge on Tumblr, this piece was written for Day 4: Dawn.What is the dawn to someone who is heralded as its bringer?
Series: Adventures of Amadeus Mac'hina [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165676





	Dawnbringer

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is almost entirely waxing somewhat philosophical about dawn and the Warrior of Light, more specifically in Amadeus' case, though I think the principles are probably generally applicable.

Dawn, dawn, dawn. The Warrior of Light and their comrades had ever been seen as its emissaries. 

It was true that if the Warrior of Light did not simply work through the night, they almost always woke with the dawn. The break of day was a promise for the future they fought so hard to protect, the start of another cycle in their unending journey. It was ever a beginning. 

Dawn was change, and much differed all over Hydaelyn since Her champion had risen. Amadeus could oft be heard to claim that they were merely one of the gears of such changes, perhaps one whose function was too greatly overstated. They always tried to divert somewhat the bright accolades they received, admitting with no shame that they would not be where they were without the aid and sacrifices of friends, acquaintances, and strangers.

Really, it was no wonder they were compared with the sun. Their general temperament was considerably less fiery than their battle persona, but nonetheless bright and cheery, albeit in a rather reserved fashion. Passionate, yet oddly distant, though as the hearts of allies drew closer in orbit so too did the adventurer’s circle ever nearer and dearer.

Hells, they even looked like a child of the sun. Their tan, for example, was evidence of their skin’s congenial relationship with its rays. That was without even mentioning their odd eyes: one gold, one sapphire, the sun and the sky, the sun and the ocean… countless comparisons could be made. Even the odd golden mark on their face, the one they bore without memory of its meaning, had a distinctly celestial curve to it.

Yet, were one to ask Amadeus themselves, perhaps they would be surprised to hear them speak of the dusk as more comforting and intimately important to them than dawn. For all of the day’s (and so too the sun’s) virtues, it masked the stars and the moon, and its passing meant the approach of that soft peace of night’s embrace. The end of the cycle, a time for reflection both forward and back, a time for the bards to spin stories by a roaring campfire, and a time for camaraderie shared in revelry and in rest.


End file.
